


without a crown (without a doubt)

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Minecraft, it's like a twist on royalty aus tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24004081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Geoff was born into a line of broken royalty, destined for greatness as his parents demanded him.But what use is a king without a kingdom to rule? A throne to sit upon? Without a crown to wear?During his travels, he meets Jack, and it's only then that things start to make sense.
Relationships: Gavin Free/Michael Jones, Jack Pattillo/Geoff Ramsey, Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood
Comments: 7
Kudos: 60





	without a crown (without a doubt)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JustAnotherMadOne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherMadOne/gifts).



> i was given the opportunity to do an AH kings prompt so i decided to take a spin on that concept and do more like the monarchy is a distant thing now and geoff is really the only direct descendant of kings of old. the others could be as well, but they're old stories now.
> 
> it's a concept! let's roll with it!

What was a king without a kingdom?

Geoff could tell you.

He was King of nothing but title.

King Geoff.

King Geoff the Wanderer

King Geoff of Nothing.

King Geoff of the Broken Kingdoms.

That was no kingdom.

The title had been passed down through the generations. Really, his family hadn’t been true royalty since his great-great-grandmother. When the witches first cursed the ground they walked on and the skies they lived under. Bringing up all manner of monster and creature and cast everyone out into the wild. Now the people lived in small villages scattered throughout the land, not in the once grandiose cities of bricks and steal and red stone. They were a leaderless people, despite the crown that Geoff carried and the stories of his heritage and noble blood.

He didn’t know why he kept living up to the charade, why he carried on the stories and title like it meant anything. He wasn’t special. He was learned, sure. He knew how to read and right, arithmetic and geography to some extent. Magic, even if he couldn’t use it. He understood the principles at the very least.

He never introduced himself as King Geoff Ramsey the First. Names had no meaning here unless if you were already an established folk hero like Mogar the Warrior. It wasn’t that people hated him if they knew he was King Geoff. It’s just that he’d get odd looks if he ever said it. Some suspicious as if they suspected he were going to ask something of them, demand their loyalty but he never did. He lived as they did. Wandered from one town to the next, lived off the land and what coin he could earn from doing menial jobs. But the pressure his parents put on him when he was young had set him up for failure.

“Our name means something. Our legacy means something,” they’d said. “One day, we will return to our birthright and reclaim it. We will re-forge the kingdoms into something glorious, and usher in a new age of prosperity. It is your destiny, Geoffrey. Never forget this.”

After they had passed, when he was still quite young, he tried to live up to their ideals. He read and visited rectories with the books and stories of his heritage and the kingdom of old. What he could do to repair it all and reclaim what he _thought_ was his.

By his twenties that thirst for knowledge and inspiration had faded into frustration and jadedness. Why was this his burden? Why must he live up to these expectations at all? Better to let it rot and fade away.

This feeling lasted for a few years while he wallowed in self pity because he didn’t know what else to do. He fought and antagonized people from coast to coast until he earned a bitter reputation where he was either barred entrance from villages or otherwise shunned.

By his thirties, he mellowed out. And this was in part due to Jack.

He met Jack in a quiet settlement of no more than three houses, a smoking forge, a bubbling cauldron, and an extensive garden plot. He’d been on the road for days now and was much looking forward to resting for a while and stocking up on his supplies. He’d met Jack who had his elbows deep in the thick plants that lived in the garden, burgeoning with all manner of foodstuffs.

“Hey,” Geoff said. “You offer room and board?”

Jack turned. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On what you can offer.”

“I’m good with an axe and chopping block. Pretty good at laying bricks too.’

“Fine by me.” Jack stood up then, a near giant of a man. He came over to the fence that penned in the garden. “Jack.”

“Geoff.”

They shook hands.

“Welcome to Achievement Cove.”

* * *

The Cove was a small settlement that housed three people. Jack, the quiet and gentle farmer. Ryan, the potion master and magic user. And Gavin, an avid hunter and explorer even if he was young and too curious for his own safety. For the most part, Jack was the only constant in the small hamlet. He rarely left his farm unattended even if they had an Iron Golem protecting their boundaries, made by Ryan’s use of red stone. Ryan was rather nomadic in his habits. He moved around when needed, especially if he needed rare materials and resources. But he would always return to his house here, to tinker away in solitude. Gavin was a whole other matter.

He was a wanderer and explorer like Ryan, but rather aimlessly. He liked to explore for the sake of exploring, often on a whim and with no goal in mind. He’d return with scrapes and bruises and sometimes a damaged ego and Jack would talk to him like he was the kid’s mentor. (To which Gavin would reply: “I’m not a _kid._ I’m _nineteen.”_ As if that made a difference.) He’d give Gavin advice and make sure he was okay and Gavin would bounce off once more, envigored for his own projects.

Jack was wise and patient. He wanted nothing more than peace and good weather for his crops. He was easy to listen to and speak to, and Geoff found himself settling in and setting down roots.

In exchange for room and board, Geoff performed menial tasks: chopping wood, clearing away any debris, the few animals kept on the property. The longer he stayed, the less inclined he was to leave. It was nice here, and he was tired from being on the road, trying to accomplish a task that he felt was becoming impossible.

“So where are you headed?” Jack asked. “Few travelers ever stay this long.”

“An impossible task,” Geoff said. Sometimes he felt like being cryptic. To spin a yarn to draw people in and dazzle them with a story that wasn’t exactly the truth.

“Wouldn’t be the first,” Jack said.

Geoff turned to look at him. “You heard some good ones then?”

“Mostly fools. There’s an old castle near here. ‘bout a two days’ ride. Some endermen like to stay there. I heard there’s a spider nest in the cellars too.”

Geoff perked up. “A castle?”

Jack nodded. “Yep. Some idiots try to go for lost treasure or other heirlooms they think were left there. But the castle’s been abandoned for generations. Nothing there but stone and rotten wood.”

“Have you been there before?”

“Me? No. I don’t see the point in it. Ryan has though. And Gavin. Ryan often looks for books or to hunt endermen for his potions. Gavin likes to explore with him. You could ask them if you want more details.”

Geoff considered it, but ultimately, he decided not to. He’d take Jack at his word.

* * *

After two months, Geoff decided he would go see the castle. Just to see it, he thought. Perhaps explore if he were in the mood. So he packed some supplies, enough for two weeks, just in case, and said goodbye to Jack.

“Will you be swinging back our way?” Jack asked. “I’m usually hard pressed into getting those two to helping me out with the chores.”

“Why, Jack. If I didn’t know you, I’d say you’re going to miss me.”

Jack shrugged. “I like having you around.”

“I shouldn’t be long.” Geoff set one foot in the stirrup and hauled himself onto the saddle. “A week or two at most. There’s something I have to do.”

“I understand. You be careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

He urged his horse forward with his heels and off he went.

It was good to be in the saddle again. This region of the world was beautiful to look at. Less compact forests and more rolling plains that went on forever. It was a nice time of year to travel in. The heat of the summer had faded away into gentle warmth for the fall months. Winter usually hemmed Geoff into one region until the spring melt. He doubted he would go further than this castle. He would likely stay with Jack and the others for the winter months. It was a fine enough establishment. He’d think he’d be happy there.

He was alone on his journey eastward. He met no one on the narrow trails, certainly not wide enough for wagons. It didn’t seem like many people lived out here. What he could remember from the ancient maps and geography when the kingdom was still together, major farm used to inhabit this area. There’d be hamlets all around. And if he looked far enough and deep enough, he could make out old stone structures—all that remained of the people who used to be here.

At night, he made sure to keep a fire going. When on the road like this, he slept in snatches, waking at every sound even if it was just his horse moving about, grazing from the grass around their camp. Maybe the monsters moved on. Killed whoever didn’t flee until there was nothing left. So they migrated as well. Whatever the reason, the desolation and isolation left Geoff with a sunken feeling in his stomach. He set out with the rising sun the next morning more exhausted than before.

He arrived three days later to the sight. The castle was on the coast, having been built as a part city before it grew to a mammoth size with lords and deeds and armaments. The hulking structure was still a sight to behold. One of the great towers had partially collapsed, but its twin was still standing strong and high. He could even make out the statues and carvings that still sat upon the walls and armaments. Not yet worn away by vandals or weather and time.

He urged his horse forward until he came to the bridge that would bring him into the inner workings of the castle. The first ring filled with the houses of the trades people and common folk followed by the courtyard where the nobles would live and then the houses for the royal family. But when he came to the bridge, he saw the broken gates. There had been several sets of gates before the castle. Two thick wooden gates and two metal gates. They staggered each other as the castle continued to be expanded upon and built. The first set of metal gates had been busted wide open, torn to shreds by some unknown force. There were scorch marks up the towering walls and debris wherever he looked.

He felt a shiver through his body and knew he wouldn’t be going any further.

He wheeled his horse around and urged it into a faster canter back in the direction he’d come.

* * *

“You’re back early,” Jack said upon his arrival.

“Didn’t find what I wanted.”

“Ah. A shame.”

“Not really. I wasn’t really attached to it and it wasn’t really urgent.”

“Well, your room is still open if you want it. I also got some weird looking chickens and I’m wondering if you could help me identify them.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

* * *

Some weeks later the first snow would fall. Jack’s cellars were stocked up with preserves, enough to last the four of them through the winter. Each morning, Geoff would head outside to collect wood and stock fire in the main house, and when Jack would wake, he’d smile and thank Geoff and start cooking breakfast for the two of them. And then he’d make more when both Ryan and Gavin would rise later in the day and also looking for warmth, company, and food.

There was still a lot of work to do in the winter. Most of it involved chopping wood and checking on the animals safe in the small barn out back. It was during this time he became more acquainted with Ryan and Gavin. Ryan spent a lot of time in the forge working on tools Jack needed for the farm and house, but he had his own projects. He liked to forge magical weapons and other equipment made from rare materials.

“I heard you made that Iron Golem that patrols the boundary,” Geoff said.

Ryan nodded, pausing to wipe sweat off his brow as he paused from shoveling coal into the forge. It was considerably warm in the forge, enough so that Geoff didn’t have to wear his heavy coat. Ryan worked only in a thin shirt and his kilt when in the forge. It was heavy work, Geoff knew, and he was glad Ryan never really asked him for help. He didn’t think he’d be much use.

“The Iron Golem was based off an image I found in an old tome,” Ryan said. “Didn’t have any words. I don’t know if it was to protect the designs from being stolen or if the author didn’t know how to read or write, but I was able to piece it together. I’ve seen similar contraptions used into different towns, so I decided to make my own. It gets the job done. Winter’s always bad for it. Snow gets too deep and it’s too heavy, so I’m thinking of making something more streamlined. Like a bird maybe.”

“I thought that’s what Gavin was for.”

Ryan laughed and set his shovel aside for the bellows to get the fire nice and hot. “He does sound an awful lot like them, doesn’t he?”

Geoff laughed and let his eyes wander to the partial projects Ryan had strung up all around the forge, and then to the hammock hung between two support beams. “How long have you been here? Known Jack?”

“A few years. I came here when I was run out of another town.”

“What for?”

He shrugged. “Could be a number of things. I kept a baby minotaur in my home for a while. But then he got too big and people noticed. Could’ve been that.”

“ _Yeah. You don’t say._ ”

“Just be glad I haven’t brought any pets home.”

“Nah, I’m an animal guy. I wouldn’t mind. Jack on the other hand. As long as it doesn’t get into his fields, I don’t think he’d care.”

“You make a good point.”

Their moment of solitude was broken with Gavin’s intrusion. Not unwelcome but always unexpected. He shook the snow off his thick shawl. A green speckled thing that Geoff had never seen him without.

“Oh, yeah. This is the stuff,” he said. “Nice and toasty in here.” He came to the hammock and gently eased himself upon it.

“You be careful with that creeper skin,” Ryan said. “Do you even know how hard it is to skin one? Much less kill one without it exploding first?”

Gavin waved him off. “It’ll be fine. It’s waterproof!”

Ryan sighed and moved from the bellows to tend the melting ore within. “So why did you decide to stay?” he asked, turning briefly to look at Geoff.

“Got sick of traveling. Been doing it all my life, and you get to a certain age where you want to settle down. Plus Jack makes really good food and I’m not stupid enough to give that up.”

“It would be a mistake,” Gavin said. “I’d probably starve without Jack.”

“You been here long?” Geoff asked.

He nodded. “Just when he finished building the guest house. I was his first guest!”

“Who just so happened to stay,” Ryan said.

“Oh, and you didn’t?”

Geoff had noticed the cheeky tones these two shared between them. More teasing and fun on Gavin’s end and more . . . longing (shall we say) on Ryan’s.

Geoff decided it was his time to leave, so he did. Better to let those two have some time together, seeing as Gavin clearly liked to be in Ryan’s space.

He went back to the main house and made sure to stomp off his boots at the entrance, hung his coat on the peg.

“Geoff, is that you?” Jack’s voice floated over from the kitchen.

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“Oh, good. Want to help me knead this dough?”

“Of course.”

* * *

Winter was fine among Achievement Cove. Every morning Geoff would wake to chores and by the evening he would sit with his bare feet in front of a fire next to Jack and they would drink tea and talk to each other. It was nice to feel this restful and this peaceful after a life on the road. Maybe he could settle down here. Give up on his destiny of restoring the kingdoms, reclaiming his legacy. No one needed to know. In fact, no one _knew._ Especially not here. They didn’t who he truly was.

“So what did you do before this?” Jack asked one night.

“Oh, nothing much. Mostly I worked for room and board. I liked to travel. To see things, and that supported my lifestyle.”

Jack looked at him oddly like he knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth. “Not many people come out this way. Just fortune seekers and fools.”

“It was part of my map I hadn’t been to yet. I wanted to see what was out here.”

“Just some ruins and a castle. Did you happen to see it?” His words were careful, measured out. He wanted to know about Geoff, but didn’t want to be forceful in his prying. Respectful yet curious.

“I did,” he said, setting his elbow on the arm of his chair to prop his head up.

“Find anything interesting there?”

He took a sip from his cooling tea. “Nothing but ghosts. You ever been there.”

Jack scoffed. “Nah. I’m not much for exploring. Don’t see the point in it. I get enough excitement from whatever the other two bring home.”

“They _are_ growing on me.”

“Happened to me too! Stupidly endearing sometimes, but I’ll take it. They’re harmless.”

They sat and drank in silence, Geoff being lulled into a doze by the heat of the fire.

“I want to thank you for letting me stay,” Geoff said because if he didn’t say it now, when would he? “You’ve got a nice set up here, and I like being a part of it.”

“Well, it’s nice to have you around. And it’s nice to have another voice of reason around this place.”

“I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

And in Geoff’s mind, that would be as close as he’d get to admitting his affection and fondness as Jack. For now.

* * *

The spring melt started two months later. The ground was muddy and grey. Everything was grey and washed out, but the weather was getting warmer, and Geoff was no longer bogged down by the freezing temperatures. The field beds wouldn’t be tended to for another month yet at least.

“Until the frost is out of the ground,” Jack said.

But Geoff was able to let the chickens out during the day so they could scamper around for scraps. They were a colourful bunch (quite literally in some cases) and a lot of them had magical properties. They would lay special eggs that weren’t edible, but made of resources Ryan could use or they could trade for other things.

“Got a lot of chickens there,” Jack said, standing under the overhang of the house to protect himself from the drizzle. It was misting more than anything, so Geoff didn’t need to pull up his hood, but his hair was certainly damp.

“That’s the thing about chickens. They never stop laying eggs.” He stepped neatly around a chicken with bizarrely golden feathers and looked up to see Jack looking at him softly. It warmed Geoff to his toes.

“You good, chicken man?”

“Yeah, I’m damp enough.”

“Good. Get inside. I got a good stew warming over the fire for you.”

* * *

The earliest burgeoning of spring came with the cherry blossoms. It also came with a visitor. Michael. The legendary Mogar the warrior. He had smudged war paint on his bare biceps, dressed largely in the skins of animals, and carried a diamond sword. It was apparent that he knew Jack, had probably come across the Cove in the past for they greatly each other warmly. Even Gavin was excited with his arrival. The only one who held himself back was Ryan. He seemed to be cautious, even jealous with how well Gavin and Michael got off together.

Jack went all out in making a feast for Michael’s arrival that night. The house was full and alive, and Michael had many stories to share with them. But then he fixed his attention to Geoff who stood at the edge of the room.

“You. You’re new around here. What’s your story?”

Geoff looked into his mug. “Not much of a story.”

“Nah. I don’t buy that for one bit. No one just stays here and doesn’t have a story. Come on! Pull up a chair.” Michael was already pulling a chair out for him, so Geoff stepped away and took a seat.

He knew largely of Michael’s reputation already. Many people had stories and songs of his bravery and strength. He was a monster hunter, taking on jobs to keep people safe. He was a popular folk hero, and in the past, Geoff had felt bitter about Mogar’s reputation. How could he, a descendant of royalty, compete with him? Wasn’t that what this was about? Competing for the peoples’ love and support? It was what he’d been taught as a child if he were to become a true king of the people.

“I come from humble beginnings,” he started. “Born in a small farming village. But my parents had big ideas for me. I don’t know. Maybe they suspected I’d be a fighter or a mercenary. They had me learn how to read and write. I learned swordplay and archery. I learned history and geography, about the old kings and queens of the past. And when I was good enough, they sent me on my way with a quest.”

“What was it?” Gavin asked.

Geoff bit at his bottom lip. “To find the lost heir to the throne. They taught me that was our family’s purpose. As knights, sort of, to find the old royal family, and I don’t know. Have some sort of monarchy restoration?” He shrugged. “It’s a weird story.”

“Nah, man. That’s pretty sweet!” Michael said. “Some sort of impossible mission. Why’d your family want the monarchy to come back?”

“It was a long line of tradition. My father did it and so on and so on generations back. I did it for a few years, looked for a while, until I got bored with that and gave up on the whole thing.”

“You ever been to the castle then?”

“Only once. I haven’t been out this way all that long.”

“I should take you there. Then you can get a sense of what it was like back then. It’s not bad if you visit it during the daytime.”

“The old monarchy was pretty bad though,” Ryan said. “They suppressed magic and tightly controlled who could and couldn’t practice it. It was a power grab. They weren’t popular people.”

Geoff fold his hands around his mug and stared at the wood grain of the table as the others spoke.

“Still, I think it’d be pretty cool to meet whoever’s descended from them,” Gavin said. “It’s not like they’re the same people.”

“You don’t know what it was like to live back then.”

“And neither do you! All those rules and regulations? They’re gone now. It doesn’t matter who’s descended from those old kings and queens. They’re not the same.”

It was the first time Geoff had seen Ryan and Gavin get into a minor disagreement, but perhaps they didn’t see eye to eye on everything.

“It doesn’t matter,” Geoff said, trying to put the matter to rest.

“Of course it matters,” Ryan said with a deep set frown. “If you try to hold people back too much, they’ll turn and snap on you. If I were to meet this heir apparent, I’d finish off the whole line myself.”

Geoff sighed and locked eyes with Jack across the table. Jack held an expression that was one of exhaustion. Like he’d heard this rant before from Ryan.

The conversation was hard to listen to after that. Geoff knew his ancestors were not saints. Many of them were the furthest from it, sometimes requiring uprisings and coups to instill a new leader on the throne. But he didn’t think it was fair to put all that blame on him.

Did he carry the sins of his ancestors? Maybe. Was he responsible for them? No. He didn’t ask to be born, especially not to be born to this line. If Ryan were to know, what would he do with that knowledge?

He didn’t sleep much that night. He stayed up much too late, reading over the texts of his family’s past, stewing over everything he’d been taught and learned.

“Do you think people are just images of their parents?” he asked Jack one day. “Like, they have their own desires and looks, but do you think they can’t amount to anything more than what their parents were before them?”

“I don’t think parents need to be a part of the discussion at all,” he said. “What if a child is an orphan? Or they’re adopted? It’s not exactly fair to expect them to live up to something if they don’t have a heritage they know about. It’s not up to us to succeed where our parents failed. Otherwise we wouldn’t get anywhere.”

He showed Jack the crown later that same day. It was just the two of them in the main house—Michael and Gavin off with each other and Ryan off sulking because he was alone. He showed him the old wrought iron crown with the gems intact. The thing he carried around with him like it was meant to mean something.

“So you are royalty? Or . . .”

“I’m royalty. As far as I can tell. It’s not like my blood is actually blue or something. I was told it was our family’s destiny to remake the kingdoms or whatever.” He shook his head. Everyday he resented his parents more and more. “And with what Ryan said. How can I not feel guilty about that? I’ve met supporters of the old monarchy. I’ve met people who would hate me if they knew. But no matter what, I’m not seen as me, you know? I don’t even know what _me_ looks like to people.”

Jack set aside the crown, so he could lay a hand over Geoff’s. “No one’s asking you to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Well, _yeah,_ I know that _now._ But for years I just went along with it. It’s what I was raised to believe in and it took me a while to realize I was miserable because of it. And then I came here.”

“And then you came here.”

He looked at their hands sort of tangled together like that. It felt nice. This felt nice.

“You wouldn’t be the only one raised on such stories,” Jack said. “I don’t know what my family was, and I might not be directly related, but I remember some relatives saying we were descended from knights of the realm. But I didn’t see anything wrong in becoming just a farmer. Living here on the land, helping out strangers when they need it. If you don’t want to be a king, you don’t have to be. Not here. And it’s not a failure on you if you don’t make this sudden return to power and glory. They shouldn’t have put you up to that task.”

It was words he always wanted to hear but was too afraid to ask for. To reach out for.

“I would’ve been King Geoff the First,” he said, feeling bitter about it all. He was doomed the moment he was told about his heritage. In a way, admitting it all to Jack freed him a bit. Loosened that tight knot in his chest.

“King Geoffrey,” Jack said. “If it makes you feel better, I think you would’ve been a great king.”

Geoff laughed a little to break the tension. “You would be the first.”

* * *

It remained their secret. Jack could understand the pressure Geoff lived under, if only marginally. Jack would say he didn’t know if his family heritage as descended from great knights was true, but it was something he thought about from time to time.

“In another life I could’ve been your knight,” he said.

“And I would’ve been lucky to have you.”

Only that he was lucky now to have Jack as he was in this moment. He was incredibly lucky.

…

Michael stayed for some weeks further. This seemed to cause Ryan some distress because suddenly Gavin’s attention and time was taken up by Michael. To Geoff’s understanding, they knew each other from past interactions. Michael’s need for adventure and quests continuously pulled him away and Gavin wasn’t the questing type to hunt monsters. So he would wait for him. And now that he was here, Ryan was all alone.

They took a trip out to a nearby valley to have a survey of the countryside. And to see if there were any species of plant Jack wanted for his garden. It was a nice trip, all things considered. They took the horses and brought some refreshments with them. Michael and Gavin would race about needlessly, and Jack would entertain Geoff with details about the terrain. Ryan rode behind them, merely sulking.

The valley they came to was lush. The grass was green. There were early spring flowers and a herd of deer far off that scattered upon their arrival. They dismounted and ground tied their horses. Geoff found himself reclining against the upper part of the hill next to Ryan, who had a grimoire out. Michael and Gavin were following Jack down into the deepest part of the valley while also playing around. Geoff turned a bit to look at Ryan and saw a deep-set frown on his brow.

“Michael seems nice,” he started. Ryan only hummed. “I’ve only heard stories about him, but I heard he’s pretty nice. Good fighter too.”

“I made that sword for him,” Ryan said without looking up. “It was a while ago now. He needed a weapon, and I wanted to be the one to make it. To demonstrate my skills.”

To impress Gavin no doubt.

“And then he went off for a while. And I thought because Gavin stayed that it would mean something. But then the mighty Mogar returns.” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have been surprised.”

“Sometimes it feels like a waste,” Geoff said. “You have something in front of you the whole time. You build yourself up for it. And it turns out it doesn’t mean as much as you thought it did. Or would. Someone else will come along, Ryan. And even if Gavin doesn’t return your affections in that way, I know he still likes you.”

Ryan did not take his eyes off the grimoire, but the tension in his shoulders dissipated. “You’re wise beyond your years, Geoff.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

* * *

A king should embody certain attributes. He should be wise and reserved. He should have a calmly air around him in times of peace and one of consternation during times of war. He should be self-sacrificing when required and knowing when the few should be sacrificed for the many. He should be educated in matters of warfare and diplomacy, trade, agriculture, the rule of law, and history. He should be above his earthly station and embody the nature of the divine. That he was above all earthly concerns.

These were all things Geoff had been taught as a child. Things to prepare him for the future, but he didn’t want that to be his future. He realized now that he never wanted that. It only took him some thirty odd years to figure it out.

He continued to live with Jack. His presence was essentially permanent at his household and the random travelers treated them as such. Jack and Geoff. Owners of Achievement Cove. Jack didn’t even try to correct them. As far as he was concerned, Geoff was just as much a part of his work as he was.

Gavin would often complain that they were basically old men now. Talking about the weather, the crops, and settling down in front of the fire at night with steaming cups of tea. Geoff would respond that they were only showing him his future.

Ryan seemed to let his relationship with Gavin settle as it was. He continued to build and create and sulk in his forge as Gavin left with Michael on adventures and quests. This mood would last until a peculiar witch came along, dressed like a scavenger in ragged clothing, colourful hair and a cheerful attitude. His name was Jeremy and he needed a place to stay. The big house was full, so Ryan offered up some space in his house, cluttered as it was with half baked projects. Their backgrounds and knowledge in magic made an instant connection between them. And soon it was clear that Jeremy would become a near permanent fixture in the Cove.

“We got a nice thing going here, Jack,” Geoff said to him. “What do you think about building a proper barn for the animals? Maybe a windmill to bring up water and crush grain.”

“Geoff, you know a way to a man’s heart. With the promise of a mill.”

“I know what gets you going, buddy. Come on. Let’s see if we can get Ryan to draw up some designs.”

“After you, my King.”

It was a term of endearment between them. Because it always caused Geoff to flush and lose his train of thought and Jack liked nothing more than that.

He liked to make Geoff laugh. He liked to see him smile and cheerful, and it had been a while since Geoff had anything to be cheerful about. But he was happy here. He felt needed and necessary and a part of things. He had purpose. Not appointed, but offered, and he would gladly accept it.

* * *

With the leaves furling out and filling in the forests, the good weather brought with it the desire to travel and explore. Seeing as there were the ruins of a castle nearby, it was a near unanimous decision to travel there and simply explore. There was no purpose in looting for anything of value had been stolen long ago. But the promise of exploring ruins appealed to most of them, so Geoff saddled his horse and followed them on the long road to the coast.

He road at the back of the posse with Jack. He was largely quiet on the ride there. It had been some months since his first visit, and he didn’t know exactly how to feel about returning to it. Jack seemed to sense his turmoil and kept him company. Spoke in his soothing tones, a quiet bass that settled him.

“You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” Jack said. “I get it. It’s a powerful thing seeing that, knowing what you know, the history that happened there.”

“No, I—I want to go in. It’s not like it matters to me anymore. It’s just a hunk of rock.”

“I won’t hold it against you if you don’t.”

Feeling sappy and exhausted all the same, Geoff rolled his head in Jack’s direction. “Jack, I love you.”

And Jack smiled. “I know.”

It was a far brighter day when they arrived at the castle’s bridge. A much better day than when Geoff had last stood here. They left their horses some paces back so they wouldn’t be hurt by whatever lay in the castle grounds. Michael and Gavin were the first to race off to see what was there. Jeremy and Ryan followed them at a more leisurely pace, discussing where they’d like to go first and what they wanted to see.

“Ready?” Jack asked, extending his elbow like he was some escort to Geoff’s blushing bride.

Geoff sighed and hooked his hand over Jack’s arm. “I guess.”

The castle was much bigger and much more intimidating that Geoff realized. But he came to understand that it was only hollow. There was nothing alive here. No terrible monster. No wailing ghost to remind Geoff of his destiny and failures. It was simply a pile of bones, bleaching and weathering under the sun. It was harmless.

It was fun to explore, he had to admit. The abandoned smithy had some horseshoes lying around and rusting. Geoff found a small one that would likely fit a pony. He pocketed it and took it with him.

They met up with Jeremy and Ryan in what looked like a sorcerer’s den. There were some interesting glyphs carved into the walls that they took special notice of.

They reconvened as a group as they passed through the gates of the inner circle. The grand steps led them up to the courtroom. There were old and tattered tapestries that hung from the walls yet. Of course they would be left behind. There was no value in them.

Geoff looked up at them, saw the partial stories the tapestries held. The arrival of his ancestors. The construction of this castle. How they bested back the endermen. The era of prosperity and peace that followed.

He found himself walking away from the others, heading deeper through the court room to a large doorway at the back of the grand room. Sun filtered in through the gap, pulling him further into what was the ruins of—

He saw a throne. Cracked and eroded, but most definitely a seat of power.

He recognized this place from old drawings and paintings. The throne room had been built under a dome of glass. Much of it had been destroyed, the outer wall entirely gone with only a few remnants of the metal that one held the glass above them.

A breeze swept through the room, carrying with it the scent of roses. They littered the place, having overgrown the stone and creeping up the throne with thick, sturdy vines and thorns. He came to the foot of the throne. If he wanted to, he could take the few steps and sit in it. Look down over the room like he was looking at his court, his people, presiding over their matters like a good monarch would.

He took one step and suddenly felt lightheaded. He followed the path of the roses and vines outward, down a crumbling staircase to where small houses made of glass were built with trees having burst forth out of the roofs. He found a path of overgrown grass and white daisies to sit among. It was quiet down here and isolated. Far enough away from the throne room yet not too far where he would get lost.

He didn’t know why he was having such strong reactions to a piece of stone. A piece of stone that meant nothing, really. Not to travellers passing by. Not to the monsters that might wander here. And certainly not to his companions.

He was relieved that it was Jack who found him. He might not be able to explain himself to the others like this.

“Nice garden,” Jack said. “Glass houses are nice, but I wouldn’t want to be the guy to clean the bird shit off of them.”

Geoff huffed if only to make a sound that he knew Jack was here.

Jack sat down in front of him, waiting for him to speak or to move. To do anything.

“I think I’m haunted,” Geoff said. “I think one of my ancestors possessed me and is making me freak out.”

“I wouldn’t put it past a ghost to do that. Want me to get Ryan so he can perform an exorcism?”

“No. I think I’m good on that front.”

Jack stretched out both hands and Geoff took them up.

“Would it make you feel better if I told it was just a rock?”

“Maybe.”

“What if we came back with hammers and just took it out?”

Geoff laughed.

Jack continued. “You think I’m joking. But I am dead serious when I say we come back here in the dead of night and start chipping away at that thing.”

“Jack, that’ll only make me _more_ haunted.”

“Or maybe it’ll tell the ghosts to stay the fuck away.”

“What if we make a pseudo throne at home instead? Maybe then the ghosts will be appeased.”

“I’m pretty sure your rocking chair already qualifies.”

_“Whoa. A throne.”_

_“Gav, go sit on it. Pretend to be a king.”_

The voices of the others filtered down to them in their seclusion. Jack began to stand and pulled Geoff up with him.

The others had finally come through to the ruined throne room. Gavin was already climbing up all over the throne like some sort of monkey, and it made Geoff laugh at the sight. This would make any royal roll in their grave, and Geoff welcomed it.

“What are you supposed to be?” Geoff asked. “The King of the Dunces.”

“King of the Birds based on how he squawks,” Ryan said.

“King Gavy-wavy,” Jeremy said, putting on the voice of some peasant as he stopped low before the throne. “What are his decrees?”

From where he was trying to stand on the high backing of the throne, balanced precariously. “My first decree as King Gavin the First and Only. That you must build me a tower of gold—whoa!” His arms windmilled and he fell back, but Michael was there to catch him and set him back on his feet.

“Nice going, King Gavin the Clumsy,” Jack said.

“I wonder how many rulers gave themselves concussions like that,” Geoff mused.

“It’s starting to get dark,” Ryan said. “We should get going.”

“What?” Michael said. “Ryan don’t want to spend time in a dark, probably haunted castle for the night?”

“If you can pay me a king’s ransom, I’ll do it.”

“Like I’ve got that kind of money.”

“Let’s go,” Gavin said, slipping from Michael’s arms. “I’m hungry.”

“Lead the way, Geoff,” Jack said.

“Come on, idiots. Before any of you get hurt on something.”

They left the next morning. There wasn’t much for them to see, and the castle held no mysteries for them. Not any longer.

They returned home after a meandering week in the wilderness. The chickens were unconcerned with their return, even if Geoff did flout over them and asked if they missed him. They didn’t, but they crowded around his feet looking for food. Jack’s gardens and plants were all in find order, and the Iron Golem toted around the perimeter of the Cove as it always did.

That night Jack and Geoff found themselves in front of the fireplace as usual. Their traveling gear hung up and put away. Tea brewed and warming their hands.

“It’s good to be home,” Geoff said.

“It is. Welcome home, _Your Majesty.”_

_“Fuck off.”_

Jack laughed and Geoff had to admit. He was happy he stayed.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed this! let me know what you liked about it.


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